


Finding You

by xxDustNight88



Series: Holmes for the Holidays [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Light Angst, POV Sherlock Holmes, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/pseuds/xxDustNight88
Summary: In which Hermione sends Sherlock on a scavenger hunt for his perfect Christmas gift hoping he learns much more about their love.





	Finding You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freya_Ishtar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya_Ishtar/gifts).



> I can't believe we're nearing the end of this collection already! I've really enjoyed writing these one-shots and hope that you've enjoyed them as well. This one is a bit different and mostly in Sherlock's POV! I do adore him ever so much. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading and SquarePeg72 for not only alpha reading and helping with the title but also for the poems used throughout the story! You really should hop over to her profile and check out all her wonderful poetry and prose! Much love, xxDustNight
> 
> Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to J.K. Rowling, BBC, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.
> 
> Written for Freya Ishtar who came into my life because we both were coincidentally writing Loki/Hermione at the same time and bonded over our fics. I'm so thankful that I can call you one of my writer friends and that we continue to bond over our love of Marvel and anything Seb or Tom! I adore you endlessly and hope that this story lifts your spirits this holiday season!
> 
> Prompt: Hermione tries to stump him. Knowing his penchant for solving mysteries, have her set up a "find the clues/solve this puzzles"-type scavenger hunt to find his present. Maybe she has some type of devious 'penalty' if he doesn't find it in a set time frame? Because to her, that would seem the perfect 'present' for Holmes-a puzzle to solve that leads to his actual present.
> 
> Song Recommendation: "All I want for Christmas is you" by Mariah Carey  
> [Holmes for the Holidays Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1246401351/playlist/1prfNYC9f8LMVVqPzgjs5l)

. . . .

" _I don't want a lot for Christmas._  
_There is just one thing I need."_  
\- All I want for Christmas is you,  
Mariah Carey

. . . .

"What on Earth do you have planned for Sherlock's gift this Christmas," Ginny asked Hermione as they sat sipping tea in flat 221B. The two witches often enjoyed late afternoon tea while John and Sherlock were off solving a case. With the holiday looming, this would be their last chance to chat before the festivities began.

"Well," Hermione began nibbling at her lip as she set aside her tea. She frowned, unsure how to broach the topic of Sherlock's gift. She figured she might as well be honest, it wasn't like her friend didn't know the difficulties she and her boyfriend of just under two years had handled. "It took a lot of searching, but there's really only one thing I think both he and I really want, or rather, need."

"What's that?" Ginny was giving her a quizzical look over the rim of her teacup.

"Each other."

* * *

 

Sherlock woke early Christmas morning to find the bed empty. He'd rolled over expecting to find Hermione curled on her side like usual, but the sheets were cold. Frowning, he realized she must have been awake for quite some time, if she had even come to bed at all. In fact, Sherlock was fairly certain he'd never felt her slide into the bed the night before. Hurriedly, he threw back the covers and grabbed his blue dressing gown before heading into the front room to investigate.

Perhaps, she had stayed up late working on a case for work and fallen asleep on the sofa. It wouldn't be the first time… They were both prone to late nights and sofa naps, their work often taking president over their needs like food, sleep, or each other. This caused tension between them more often than not, but this was Christmas… Surely, she wasn't upset at him today of all days? Tying the sash of his dressing gown, Sherlock paused in the doorway of the kitchen and frowned.

The living room was empty. Having walked past the bathroom, he knew she was not in there nor could anything be heard from John's old room which now was used as an office and  _apparition_  room. Hermione was clearly not in the flat and that made Sherlock's heart stutter and his stomach clench. Moving to sit in his chair, he placed his face in his hands and tried to wrack his brain for a reason she would leave on Christmas.

They hadn't fought the night before, both free of work worries for the holidays. Had he been distant lately? Had she? After months of trying to mend the last big fight they'd had over being unable to fully commit to a relationship of their nature, was this finally the end? Exhaling slowly, Sherlock compartmentalized his emotions so that he could think rationally. There had to be a greater picture he was missing, so with a clear head, he dropped his hands and glanced around the room once more.

Relief flooded him as he spotted the tiny silver box with a red bow sitting on John's old chair. Hermione used it more often than not these days, but he still considered it John's. Tentatively, Sherlock leaned forward to take hold of the tiny box and read the little card attached to the top. It was in the shape of a clock face, and was magically enchanted as such. The little second hand ticked on and Sherlock had to smile at Hermione's skills. She never ceased to amaze him.

The clock matched the current time, 8:03 am he noted, and turning it over, he was able to read the note she left for him…

_Merry Christmas, Sherlock. I know that we've had a difficult year and that made buying you a gift rather difficult. Instead, I have put together this scavenger hunt. You will have exactly four hours to reach the end of the hunt from the time you open the box. The first clue is contained inside and from then on, you will be on the clock, so to speak. I hope that what you discover during your journey will make the gift at the end worth it._

_Hermione_

Blinking rapidly, Sherlock felt the thrill of the game start to rush through his veins. He loved a good game with clues, something that Moriarty had used to his advantage once upon a time. This was different, though, wasn't it? Hermione's note didn't seem overly heartfelt, her usual signature excluding the salutation of  _love_. Swallowing back that thought, Sherlock eagerly opened the bow and removed the lid, knowing that it started the clock.

Inside the small box was a piece of parchment. Withdrawing it carefully, he unfolded the paper and read the first clue.

 _Tick Tock_  
_Race the clock_  
_Find me where we ran into each other_  
_Where we began_

Snorting, Sherlock couldn't help but to smile as he deciphered her words. Sherlock would always remember the very first place they met, or rather,  _ran into each other_. King's Cross Station. It was September first and he'd been watching random people seemingly vanish into thin air between platforms nine and ten. Having grown frustrated with waiting around in the crowd of people, he'd taken a mad dash forward to watch a group of red-haired people with odd trunks and an owl. Only, instead of meeting up with them to ask a question, he'd run right into a bushy-haired woman, knocking her to the ground.

Running the tip of his finger over the magical clock depiction, Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken knowing he had to get moving. Jumping up from the chair, he quickly ran back to the bedroom and dressed. He assumed that whatever his gift was, Hermione would be waiting at the end. Dressing in his best suit, he chose to wear a green Oxford shirt for the occasion. Donning his trademark jacket, he slipped the first clue and paper clock into the pocket before leaving the flat.

The game was on.

* * *

 

King's Cross was nearly empty this holiday morning, most people having already done their traveling. Sherlock paid no mind to his surroundings, dead set on reaching the space that hid Platform 9 ¾. By the look of things, no trains were departing from either platform nine or ten so he was all alone. Coming to a stop, Sherlock glanced around eagerly in hopes of spotting the next clue. He was not disappointed.

On the lamppost between the two platforms, an identical box to the first was sat. Standing on his tiptoes, Sherlock quickly snatched up the box and looked for the tag. Sure enough, it had his name written in Hermione's familiar handwriting. He lifted open the lid to find his second clue. He was down an hour or so now, so he was eager to get on with the hunt.

_Spinning in place_

_The world looks different from here_

_Find me where I first said yes_

_Where plans began_

Swapping the clue for the clock, Sherlock realized he had just over three hours remaining. He had no idea how many clues there were, or the real purpose for finding them. Thinking on the clue, Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he looked around King's Cross.  _Find me where I first said yes… Where plans began…_

After his initial introduction to Hermione, he suddenly found himself running into her all over the place. Each time, he would be in the middle of a case or seeking out something he couldn't quite put a finger on. Each time they ran into one another, Hermione seemed more and more flustered, almost as if they weren't supposed to be running into each other at all. Finally, after weeks of this madness, Sherlock had asked her to have coffee or tea, or  _something_  of the sort so that he could pick her brain.

Except, she never said yes. In a panic, she would always say no and then run down an alley and disappear, seemingly into thin air. It drove him to madness and caused John to worry more so than usual. Finally, one snowy day, Hermione finally did say yes. Possibly out of defeat, but he suspected she was as intrigued by him as he was of her. That had been at the base of the London Eye.

He recalled it so clearly now, the way she'd tried to flee before he could get to her. Her sleeve was the best he could do, tugging her around so she was forced to look up into his face.  _"Don't make me beg, Ms. Granger. Have dinner with me."_ Her answer had been a breathless,  _"Yes,"_  as she finally gave into his relentless requests. Remembering the moment with fondness, Sherlock turned on his heel and raced for the car park. He needed to get a cab and quick. He now had less than three hours remaining to find Hermione.

At least now, he had an idea what the remaining clues would entail. It appeared Hermione was taking him on a ride down Memory Lane, as it were. Smirking as he hailed a cab, Sherlock couldn't wait to see what awaited him next. The beginning of their relationship had been full of endless questions and revelations, stolen glances and hesitant kisses. He suspected his next clue would reveal much of the same.

* * *

 

Traffic managed to steal more time than he felt he could afford to lose on his way from King's Cross to the London Eye. He was frantic when he arrived, nearly forgetting to pay the cabbie for the ride and for remaining so he wouldn't have to hunt down another after finding the next clue. A misty type of rain was beginning to fall, and Sherlock was suddenly hoping it turned to snow before the day ended.

The London Eye turned slowly, its few passengers enjoying the view this Christmas morning. Sherlock had no occasion to join them, eagerly looking about for a little red package adorned with his name. Approaching the ticket booth, he spotted just that, sitting unobstructed on one of the rails for the lines. Glancing around and wondering why no one else had noticed it, he chalked it up to Hermione and her magical abilities. Waiting not another second, he opened the box and began to read.

 _Bubble and boil_  
_Tempers and toil_  
_Find me where we had enough_  
_Where words bite_

A chill fell upon Sherlock as he remembered exactly when he'd learned of Hermione's secret. It was the answer to this clue, of course, and the reason they'd had a dark period roughly one year after starting to date. Tossing the box into the nearest bin, Sherlock crumpled this note and shoved it into his pocket. He didn't bother looking at the time, needing a moment to himself to process why Hermione would include this in the scavenger hunt.

Who willingly wanted to recall fights and broken hearts at Christmas? What was Hermione thinking? The location of the next clue was the place where he'd followed Hermione one dark night, believing her to be seeing someone else. Why else would she sneak away so often without telling him what she was up to? As it turned out, that wasn't the case.

Instead, in the midst of a heated shouting match, Sherlock was finally made privy to the fact that Hermione was a witch, a real-life, magical being, who had to visit her secret world to work and see her friends. It had been a slap to the face, especially since Sherlock had been so forthcoming with her about his life and past transgressions.

The fight had been a turning point, the two of them going their separate ways. So why did she want him to return to that hateful place? Swallowing back his uneasiness, Sherlock returned to the cabbie and told him the address of the next destination. However, Sherlock had no idea what he was going to find at the Leaky Cauldron. He could only hope it was another clue and not Hermione telling him that they were through, for good this time.

* * *

 

The cabbie said he would wait for Sherlock, obviously not overly busy this Christmas. The mist had turned into a full rain by the time Sherlock stepped from the cab in search of the next clue. The street was empty, not a soul to be found. Smirking slightly as he wandered down the sidewalk, Sherlock still found it funny that, as a Muggle, he could not fully focus on the door to the Leaky Cauldron, though he new of its existence.

The ride over had allowed for him to further think about the clue and Hermione's reasoning behind it. He supposed that this was her way of having him come to terms with the different aspects of human nature. The good and the bad. He was still so awful with emotions, even after the many years spent with John teaching him how to open his heart to those around him. Hermione was the first person since Irene that really captivated him mentally, and emotionally.

Walking past the door of the secret wizarding establishment, Sherlock tried to ignore the sense that he needed to be elsewhere. He knew it was magic meant to keep Muggles away, but he obviously needed to be here or Hermione wouldn't have written the clue the way she did. They'd argued before, but this was where they'd had enough and called off their relationship for a while. It hurt, but it was the truth. The sound of a door opening pulled Sherlock from his melancholy thoughts.

"Are you Sherlock?" the man asked from the doorway. When he nodded, the man said, "I'm Tom. I own the place. I was told to be on the lookout for a man in a long coat. This is for you." He held out his hand then, a familiar silver box held aloft.

Sherlock hurried over and eagerly took the clue. "Thank you," he murmured, but when he looked up again, the man was gone. Feeling that odd compulsion to leave again, Sherlock allowed it to guide him back to the cab. Standing outside in the rain, he opened the box and read over where he was meant to be next.

 _Twin of love_  
_The world sparkles from here_  
_Find me where we came together_  
_Where kisses heal_

A smile graced Sherlock's lips as he thought about how clever his little witch was. If this clue had been given to anyone else, surely they would have been lost. But not Sherlock. He knew that the twin of love in reference was the statue of Anteros, the god of selfless and mature love. The clue made its way into his pocket with the others as he opened the door and slid into the backseat of the cab. Relaxing slightly as he realized Hermione wasn't ending their relationship, he met the cabbie's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Piccadilly Circus," he told him, and hastened to add, "Please." Turning away from the mirror, he watched the rain continue to streak down the window.

Oddly enough, Sherlock managed to run into Hermione a few weeks after their breakup. She was working a case that led her to Piccadilly Square. It was then that Sherlock had realized that they'd been working the same case, and also that he'd missed her desperately while they were apart. Against his normal proclivity, he'd told her as such and then promptly kissed her before she could object.

They made love for the first time that night and the very next day, Hermione had moved in with him.  _Where kisses heal…_  They most certainly did. Sherlock had never known that kissing someone could be so utterly magical, or maybe that was simply because it was with Hermione. Either way, he prayed that she was waiting for him there, but with well over an hour remaining in the scavenger hunt, he suspected there to be at least one or two remaining clues to be found.

* * *

 

As it was Christmas and most everyone had finished their shopping so they could celebrate with their loved ones, Piccadilly Square was nearly empty. The foot traffic was light, people scurrying through the rain to get wherever it was they were headed this Christmas. Sherlock exited the cab, paying this time and bidding the cabbie a Happy Christmas. With determination on his face, Sherlock made directly for the fountain at the center of the area.

The clue was waiting for him, perched on the edge of the fountain. So perhaps one more clue after this then, he thought glancing around and still not finding Hermione anywhere. That was fine, he was enjoying this game. Quickly inspecting the magical clock tag, Sherlock realized he had less than thirty minutes until his time was up. Tucking that away, he unfolded the parchment and began to read...

 _Spruce and light_  
_Questions and answers_  
_Find me where the lights run wrong_  
_Where decisions are made_

This one was tricky, causing Sherlock to frown as he thought about each line. He decided to focus on the descriptive pieces, knowing they would lead him to the final destination. After all, if one was asking questions to get answers so they could make a decision, certainly this had to be the end. He was running out of time!  _Spruce and light… Find me where the lights run wrong…_

Spruce had to be a Christmas tree and as for the lights running wrong… It hit him, so hard he immediately turned and began to run through Piccadilly Circus at full speed. At some point, the rain turned to snow, but he hardly noticed. He had to hurry before it was too late. What would happen if he didn't make it by the end of the four hour mark? Would Hermione disappear, or would she wait to hear him out?

Breathing heavily, Sherlock stopped at his destination, all his questions still flying through his head, begging to be answered. Catching his breath, he took a moment to enjoy the snow now falling, blanketing Trafalgar Square and making it look like a winter wonderland. Glancing about, he spotted it. The Christmas tree where the lights ran wrong. Rather than looped around the branches, they were placed vertically as was the custom where the tree hailed from.

Hermione was standing next the to tree, a Norwegian spruce that was gifted to Britain for their commitment to Norway during the second World War. She looked beautiful, in Sherlock's opinion, her hair blowing about in the wind as snow fell softly. He felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled at his approach, and he picked up his pace. Stopping a few feet from where she stood, he smirked triumphantly.

"I have found you." Sherlock knew he was being smug, but then again, he always was after solving a case.

"You have. I knew that you would." She laughed and shook her head. Her expression changed then, the smile falling from her lips and setting Sherlock on edge.

"What is it?" He asked, taking a step toward her. "What's wrong?"

"I need to know, Sherlock," Hermione began hesitantly as she tucked a curl behind her wind-blown hair. Her throat felt tight from holding back her tears, but she swallowed thickly and continued. "I need to know if you're willing to make this work. I can't keep going like this, like passing ships in the night. I love you, but I can't keep coming in second to your work. I moved in with you and made a home office to be with you more, but  _still_ you seem so distant."

Sherlock blinked, his glee from moments before disappearing with the wind. "I find myself confused," he said slowly, taking another step toward Hermione, who, thankfully, did not back away. "I was under the impression that I was to find a gift-" He cut off abruptly, realization dawning so clearly he stumbled backward a step.

"You," he breathed, heart pounding behind his ribs. How hadn't he realized it before. She was having him relive the good and bad times of their relationship to show him how through it all, she still cared about him. Quietly, he whispered, "You are the gift."

Hermione smiled softly and nodded. "I am, if you are willing to give yourself to me in return."

Sherlock didn't even have to think twice, swiftly closing the space between them, wrapping one hand around her waist as the other carded through her curls. Staring down into her eyes with nothing but adoration, he said, "My heart is yours, Hermione. Now, and always. Merry Christmas, my love."

As she broke into a true grin, he dipped his head and captured her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck and then he was twirling her around in a circle, not caring that they were right in the middle of Trafalgar Square where anyone could see them. Hermione loved him, he loved her, and they were going to be together this Christmas and many more. This was the best gift he could have ever received.


End file.
